7 Books We Hand Over Like Gospel
The ones we love too much to keep to ourselves.
Lit Window is a series written from the floor of Godmothers. It traces the light that literature casts through the books, gatherings, and conversations that leave their mark.
There are few books we can’t shut up about. Not because we’re told to, but because we have to. Because they’re dog-eared in our brains.
We carry thousands of books at Godmothers, so making a little list of seven we keep handing to people feels…unremarkable. But maybe that’s exactly why it matters. When you think about how many books we shelve, how many we read each month—actually, never mind. It’s remarkable.
This is not a listicle. It’s an experience, a peek into the books that have a gravitational pull inside Godmothers. Think of it as a hybrid between a bookseller confessional and a cultural pulse-check.
So, to begin, close your eyes. Imagine you’re a guest who slips into the store five minutes before closing with a quick, out-of-breath:
“I just need a book that’s…”
(Ok. You can open them now.)
…Devastating. Dazzling. Searching. Sacred.
What We Say When We Hand It Over:
It moves through lyrical prose, addiction, faith, and longing. At its core: the ache of searching for meaning through the lens of immigration, but not limited to it. Nothing else on our shelves feels quite like this.
Why it resonates:
Kaveh Akbar's New York Times bestseller and debut novel, Martyr!, doesn’t just tell a story, it wrestles with one. It feels like watching someone search for martyrdom (what does it mean to live for something beyond yourself?) with a flashlight and a broken heart. When guests ask for something a little beautiful, a little wrecking, we hand them this without hesitation.
A quote we can’t stop thinking about:
“It’s easy for people who have sacrificed nothing to rationalize their own ordinariness by calling me lucky. But I sacrificed my entire life; I sold it to the abyss. And the abyss gave me art.”
…Fast. Sharp. A little unhinged.
What We Say When We Hand It Over:
If you want something punchy, chaotic, and a little morally sideways: this is it. It’s about plagiarism, race, and fame in publishing, and it reads like a satirical, psychological drama with claws.
Proof: our booksellers picked it for their own book club.
Why it resonates:
Yellowface asks who gets to tell a story, and what they’re willing to lose to be heard. It’s funny (until it’s not).
A quote we can’t stop thinking about:
“Writing is the closest thing we have to real magic. Writing is creating something out of nothing, is opening doors to other lands. Writing gives you power to shape your own world when the real one hurts too much.”
…Cozy. Magical. Immersive. Emotionally grounded.
What We Say When We Hand It Over:
A little mysterious, a little magical, Ink Blood Sister Scribe is about sisters, legacy, and the power hidden in books. Caroline hands it to readers who say they don’t usually do fantasy. They come back converted.
Why it resonates:
The magic here isn’t flashy, it’s folded into memory, language, and the rooms we grow up in; two estranged sisters and a family library that’s not what it seems. This novel is an unexpected comfort read, perfect for anyone craving storybook escape with real emotional stakes.
A quote we can’t stop thinking about:
“It amazed her, how once the unfamiliar became well-known you could never go back.”
Tender. Lyrical. Reverent.
What We Say When We Hand It Over:
Unusual and meditative, Ocean Vuong writes about an unexpected friendship, caregiving, addiction, and finding beauty in quiet, broken places. It’s no wonder The Emperor of Gladness was selected as Oprah’s Book Club pick.
Why it resonates:
This feels like a whisper you lean in to catch. There’s pain here but it’s wrapped in a kind of reverence. Vuong’s characters are so fully drawn, they feel lived in. And the writing—soft and deliberate—is the kind that makes you stop mid-sentence to read it out loud.
A quote we can’t stop thinking about:
“He had successfully thrown himself into the trash, and the act was so complete, so total, it felt clean. He was a container inside a container filled with containers contained by space—and somehow, this made him full.”
Moody. Flirtatious. Summery. A little tragic.
What We Say When We Hand It Over:
Our friend, Elizabeth Khuri Chandler, co-founder of Goodreads, recommended this as a “savage, savage little book, very French”. Say no more (but I’ll say more). It means ‘hello sadness’ in French but it’s not actually that sad. Bonjour Tristesse is a moody summer novella written by a 17-year-old about being 17, on the French Riviera, with a charmingly reckless dad and a tangled web of feelings. To be read in summer with a strong espresso and buttery croissant (at our food truck).
Why it resonates:
This book has a breeze to it. It’s flirtatious and melancholic. Think Rebecca without the dread; just emotional games under the sun. We love it for its elegance and nerve, and for how it captures the ache of being young and aware for the first time. It’s no wonder a film adaptation hit U.S. theaters just a few weeks ago.
A quote we can’t stop thinking about:
“For this was the round of love: fear which leads on desire, tenderness and fury, and that brutal anguish which triumphantly follows pleasure.”
Of course, not everything is fiction. Sometimes we need a history explained by the people who lived it. And sometimes we seek comfort in relatable sorrow.
…Truthful. Radical. Perspective-shifting.
What We Say When We Hand It Over:
It’s history told from the people who actually lived it, not the ones who won. His story, actually.
Why it resonates:
A People’s History of the United States is for readers who want untold perspectives. Howard Zinn shifts the spotlight from presidents and generals to working-class voices, women, enslaved people, immigrants—those usually footnoted or forgotten. It’s foundational if you're ready to rethink what you thought you knew.
A quote we can’t stop thinking about:
“Before God and high heaven, is there a law for one man which is not a law for every other man?”
…Grief-soaked. Honest. Human.
What We Say When We Hand It Over:
Small enough to carry in your purse (I have), Adichie writes about her father’s death with such honesty it almost feels like you're intruding. I love that Notes on Grief isn’t trying to make sense of anything. It just sits with what’s unbearable.
Why it resonates:
I’m careful to recommend this out loud. Grieving a loved one is too personal for anything pushy. I share when someone lingers near the memoirs and asks for a gentle salve. Because this masterpiece offers recognition, not repair. Reading these words is like being seen by someone in no rush to fix you.
A quote we can’t stop thinking about:
“For the rest of my life, I will live with my hands outstretched for things that are no longer there.”
We don't always know why people walk in when they do. But we do know that often, the right book is already waiting–on the front table, on the tip of a bookseller's tongue, in the brief space between "I'm just looking" and something more. Sometimes sharing a book feels like more than a suggestion. It feels like communion.
Maybe you've had one of those reads lately. If it comes to mind, please leave it in the comments so we can soak in what’s moved you.
Yellowface is SO good! Always on my recommendation list :)